


I'm Lost Without You

by Harlequinade



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlequinade/pseuds/Harlequinade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air was quiet. The dracs lay dead on the dusty road, their white uniforms covered in the desert dust and their own blood, seeping from wounds that had been cauterized on impact, then had split to slowly drip the life force of the creatures. The only sound left was his shattered breathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Lost Without You

The air was quiet. The dracs lay dead on the dusty road, their white uniforms covered in the desert dust and their own blood, seeping from wounds that had been cauterized on impact, then had split to slowly drip the life force of the creatures. The only sound left was his shattered breathing.

He clutched a hand to his ribs, the place where he could feel his life seeping out. But he had no concern for that now – he had to find Ghoul. 

With a gasp and grimace, pain crippling him, he stood up and swayed, like a candle in the wind. But he managed to stay upright. The sun beat down on him, baking him from the inside out. The blue leather jacket he had on was certainly keeping him from getting sunburned, but it was also microwaving him. Sweat trickled down his face, intermingling with blood from the long gash over his eye and stinging.

“Ghoul?” He croaked out, but the air was still silent. It was too quiet. Where was the last one? Where was the only person he had left? The dracs had taken them by surprise, coming from around the bend without warning while he and Ghoul had searched Route Guano, scouring for any sign that Kobra Kid and Jet Star were still alive, that the Doctor had been wrong and that the two were simply hiding out, waiting until everything blew over. But nothing. It was as if they had simply been blown away with the wind, not even their shadows living on in their place.

Ghoul had been the first one to notice the dracs. The man probably wouldn’t even have noticed them until he had a laser through the brain if the younger man had cried out. Ghoul had had his gun out (affectionately also known as Fun Ghoul. Both he and Ghoul had kept their guns’ names the same as their own. Jet had thought that was stupid and named his Ray Gun Jones. As if that was any more clever) and had mowed down the first few.  
Korse hadn’t been there, thank goodness. He’d already taken Grace from them, why should he have the satisfaction of seeing them feverishly looking for their fallen brothers? The man closed his eyes, another stuttering breath through the blinding pain in his side reminding him of the stunner to the face that had left him and the other Killjoys helpless as he took Grace back to Battery City.  
He could still see it, Korse’s grim face looking at him, almost smirking behind the gruff face he put up in the dracs’ presence, one of them holding Grace too tightly against him. Grace was gasping for air and struggling to get away. He had been the only one awake to watch the dracs shove their little tagalong in the back of a car and drive away, but his limbs didn’t respond to his commands, even the rage at Korse’s smug, “Keep running.” couldn’t get him to rise, except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Ghoul.” His raspy voice was giving out – he was dying, and he knew it. There was only a matter of time. Maybe if he found Ghoul, they could get out of here in time and find DJ Doctor Death-Defying before it was too late.

That’s when he saw him. “Ghoul.” It was barely a whisper this time. There, sprawled in the road like an animal hit by a car, was Fun Ghoul. His bumble-bee-yellow-and-green jacket stood out sharply from all the plain white of the dracs surrounding his still body. The Frankenstein mask that protected him from the deadly air in Zones Three and Six was discarded, torn in places. They would need to get that repaired. 

He was crawling now, trying to get close enough to Ghoul to wake him before he passed out. “Ghoul.” He could see the other side of Ghoul’s face now, the one with the scar. A Blackbird had sliced his face wide open, but now there was nothing left of the gruesome smirk but a row of white x’s marching from the corner of his mouth vertically to right below the outside corner of his eye. He was bleeding too, his face covered with the red slick substance. It looked like he’d taken a bad blow to the head, but hopefully he’d be alright enough to make it back to the Doctor.

“Ghoul.” He was kneeling next to the younger man now, smoothing back his black hair (coated with a red syrupy substance, but he chose to ignore that). 

“Ghoul, get up. We’ve got to get back to the Doctor. I’ve been…” Ghoul always freaked out whenever his companion got hurt. Maybe it was because of what had happened to Grace, Kobra and Jet. Ghoul had had tattoos done, and okay, call him crazy, but the man did not think that counted as better than being shot. Needles in your flesh versus burning shot in the side. Ghoul may say you could tell the difference, but he sure couldn’t. “I’m hurt. I can’t drive, Ghoul.”  
But he remained still. “Ghoul?” The man was pleading now. “Ghoul, you need to get up. I can’t make it over to the Trans AM on my own.” Ghoul made no noise, no consent that he could even hear him. His eyes were closed, head lolling to one side.  
“No, no, no, no.” He breathed, the ‘no’s rolling off his tongue like gumballs out of a shattered bowl. “Ghoul.” He whispered. Putting his red head down on the chest of his last friend in the world, Party Poison wept.

It was a few days before the news reached Show Pony and Dr. Death-Defying that the Killjoys’ final two members had been dusted. The bodies were buried by the Young Bloods: four sewer rats that were good friends of the Killjoys. There were two empty graves beside the filled ones labeled Party Poison and Fun Ghoul. Kobra Kid and Jet Star’s bodies were missing, but there was no doubt that they were either ghosted or dusted. Everyone hoped that they were dusted – being dead was better than being a drac.

Finally, with a slow hand, the Doctor picked up his mike. “Hey kiddies, this Dr. Death-Defying. It’s been a rough day out here in the zones. Our final two Killjoys hit the dust this week: Party Poison and the Fun Ghoul are with our good friend the Phoenix Witch in the big party in the sky. Just remember: there are always those that go on before us. The best we can do is to spread their story. Let’s show our friends at Better Living exactly what our Killjoys were about!”  
A few days later, the spider from the Trans-Am was spray-painted on the front doors to the BL/IND doors. Colorful paint balloons had been thrown and were drying on the white steps. Music blasted from hidden speakers as the workers tried to scrub the colors from the front walk and find the disruptive sounds. As they did, a group of kids ranging from fourteen to twenty-two watched from hidden places and watched silently as Party Poison screamed, “Pull a pin, and let this world explode.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I saw this picture and I was inspired. 
> 
> http://down-a-rabbit-hole.deviantart.com/art/I-m-Lost-Without-You-278061348


End file.
